And We All Lived Happily Ever After
by Gargoyle with a Smile
Summary: What happened afterwards? One O/C, and plenty of pain. Simon's not dead, Roger and Jack are still evil, and Ralph is in love.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1:  
  
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing that you recognise, lol.  
  
I tripped. I bit down into sand and then the breath was knocked from me, by someone slamming down on top of me; felled by my sprawling legs. It was a moment before I realised what had happened. It was over. They had won. We were caught. Sweat spawned of fear and heat trickled down my forehead, mixing with the sand in my mouth. The salty mess was disgusting, but I was too shocked and scared to spit it out. Suddenly I recognised the rasping breathing of the body on top of me. How could I not? I'd lain so many sleepless, uncomfortably hot nights listening to that breathing. Ralph couldn't move. I didn't know whether he was hurt, or whether like me he was in shock.  
  
Running footsteps skidded into the heap we made on the sand, gasping in disbelief.  
  
"R-Ralph," Simon stuttered. I raised my head, and saw two white shoes and white drill pants standing on the sand. "Come on, lad, let the young lass up!" a rough hand took my grubby one and hauled me up. I was too shocked even to wipe away the blood and sand encrusted round my face. Ralph stood next to me and Simon, staring at the Navy Officer. The tribe had blundered out of the smoking and roaring mass of trees and stopped on the sand a short distance away.  
  
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"Alright. Get them below and cleaned up. Give them a good feeding, too. They look half starved," the Commanding Officer nodded to his officers. "Come on lass, you're alright now." A young sailor put an arm around me and helped me stagger down below. I walked in a daze. We were going home. Home - I couldn't remember what that was, even. It had been awful, standing on the deck with the Tribe staring insolently as us. Especially Jack. God - if I forgot his touch the next day it wouldn't be quick enough.  
  
"Here you are. We don't tend to have much women's clothing on board, but these will have to do. There's hot water, and someone will bring you something to eat in a bit." He smiled, and shut the door to the tiny cabin behind him. I washed myself. I washed all over, stripping and wiping with a flannel. Slipping into an oversized shirt and slacks, I felt clean and comfortable for the first time in a long while. I was brought a hot meal from the galley, and a mug of tea. I was about to climb into the narrow bunk, which looked hard but would seem like heaven, when there was a knock at the door. I kept silent - if it was an Officer, he would make his presence known.  
  
"Charlotte?" a hoarse whisper came. I unlocked the door quickly. Ralph stood in the corridor, his face clean and his longish hair washed.  
  
"God, Ralph!" I managed to utter before he stepped in and flung his arms around me. His hair tickled my ear and his breath was hot on my cheek.  
  
"It's alright!" he whispered, though he didn't look it. He had dark shadows under his eyes and he was too skinny. If I had had a mirror, I would have realised that I looked the same. "We're going home. It'll be alright." He held onto me tightly, trying to reassure himself and me.  
  
"Where's Simon? Is he ok?" I pulled back and scrubbed at my eyes.  
  
"He's having something to eat. Jack and Roger are in the - " he broke off. "Christ, I want to hurt him."  
  
"Don't think about it any more, Ralph, it's over," I muttered, but he could see that I was upset.  
  
"I'm sorry," he came close again, and touched my face. "But I hate him for what he's done. To Piggy. To you."  
  
"It's over," I repeated and caught his hand. "We're going home."  
  
That night I lay awake in the luxury of the bunk and thought about home. My doting mother, and businesslike father. Proper, well-mannered, middleclass people. They would never believe that Piggy - no. They would believe, but they'd not want me to emphasise what had really happened. They'd forget about it, because they hadn't been there, they hadn't seen -  
  
But they'd never believe what Jack had done. When he'd wanted to hunt us, and kill us, and especially when he'd made me touch him, and be with him.  
  
No. I didn't want to think about that. My thoughts turned to Ralph instead. The boy I loved. Well, thought I loved, because I'd never been in love before. But I think I did love him. He'd been the one to look after me, to help me and protect me. The one to put me before himself. Who could resist? The perfect gentleman, and an attractive one at that.  
  
I only caught a glimpse of Roger and Jack when we disembarked. I was hurried off, after receiving a small smile from Ralph.  
  
On the way home in the car, I was silent. My mother held my hand tightly as though I would run off, and my father simply kept his eyes on the road.  
  
I saw my home through blurred eyes, from the tears that wouldn't stop welling up. Inside, I relished the familiar, almost forgotten smell, and was plied with a steaming cup of sweet tea. After a deluge of questions from both my parents, and aloof answers from myself, my mother shook her head, as if trying to clear it.  
  
"You say this boy - Piggy - is dead?"  
  
"Yes," I said quietly. "He was the one who held the conch."  
  
My parents exchanged looks. They plainly did not believe a word I said. My father looked at his watch.  
  
"Good Lord! I must be off, dear. Help your mother, Charlotte," he said vaguely, before collecting his hat and coat and closing the door after him.  
  
"Charlotte, dear," - my mother emphasised the word 'dear' as though she was getting impatient - "you keep coming back to this - Ralph - boy?"  
  
"Yes," I said again. "He was my - my friend."  
  
"Your friend? I wasn't aware that young ladies such as yourself had any boys as companions," my mother said snippily.  
  
"He looked after me, Mother! He made sure I slept in a shelter by myself," I added, knowing that this would pacify her somewhat. I was right. She sniffed again, but less haughtily this time, and cleared away the teacups.  
  
"I telephoned your new school. They're prepared to have you start on Monday, along with several others that were involved in the - incident. It's a beautiful old building - boys and girls are taught a few different lessons, and the others you will be integrated in. I've laid the uniform out on your bed, and the new books you will need. I suggest you go to bed now, because you had better look through the books tomorrow after church, so you aren't too far behind."  
  
"Charlotte!" a blonde girl with her hair in pigtails ran up to me.  
  
"Hello, Hannah,' I said quietly. She hadn't changed a bit. Of course, she wouldn't have - it had only been a few months, after all.  
  
"How are you? I mean apart from the whole - thing - but anyway, you can sit next to me in class if you like." She chattered on as we stood in the playground.  
  
"Thanks," I said absently. I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying. Where was Ralph? I was sure he had said he would be coming to school today, in the whispered phone call we had had the day before. He had already been coming for a year, but this was all new to me. "I thought you were going to St. Hilda's?" I asked suddenly. St. Hilda's was an exclusive boarding school for girls.  
  
"Well, I was, but then I decided not to, because I didn't know anyone, and Mummy said I shouldn't have to go if I didn't want to - " she droned on, and my attention wandered again.  
  
Then I saw them. Ralph was drifting in, his black and red tie loose, his blazer undone, and Roger was behind him. What was he doing here? Please - he couldn't be coming here. I wanted to shout a warning, and was just about to when I realised where we were. At school. Not on that island any more. It was over. Ralph saw me just as the bell jangled. He sent me a longing look, as we filed in silently. I bit down on my lip in a mixture of excitement at seeing him, and a thrill of fear as Roger caught my eye. I saw the other girls were smoothing down their long black skirts, and I did the same, making sure the white blouse was securely tucked in and removing my black hat. I glanced at the ribbon on it. Red. Red like the scarlet of Ralph's tie. Red like the carmine badge on Roger's blazer. Red like the crimson of Piggy's blood -  
  
I had to stop thinking like that.  
  
"Here," Hannah tucked a strand of my hair back. "Mr Griffiths, the head, always notices untidiness. Always be tidy, Charlotte. He's really strict," she whispered fearfully. "But Miss Carmichael's really nice. She's our form mistress. She's pretty too - all the boys have dreadful crushes on her."  
  
I nodded at the information she gave me. We filed into the classroom, and Hannah pushed me into the desk adjoining hers. I realised that the girls sat on the side of the room near the windows, and the boys sat on the other, near the hot water pipes. I saw Ralph settle into his seat near the back. We were about halfway down, and Roger was in the furthest corner.  
  
"They're announcing who's been made Prefects today," whispered Hannah excitedly. "And the new Head Boy and Head Girl."  
  
"Settle down, everybody," Miss Carmichael called out. She was a slender young woman with wavy blonde hair that was tied in a knot at the back of her head, and thin gold wire framed spectacles.  
  
"We have two new students with us today, Charlotte Ingrams, and Roger Everett. And Ralph is back with us as well. Now, Mr Griffiths will be along to announce the new Head Boy and Girl shortly, so I suggest you all turn to page fourteen of your textbooks, and get on with the questions."  
  
Hannah turned to the page. I was given a brand new exercise book and a pen, and I struggled to take in the facts about Henry VIII and his six wives. The class were miles ahead of me, and this only made me feel worse.  
  
After about twenty minutes of silent work, the door burst open, and a stout man dressed in a tweed suit strode in pompously. He had a moustache and a ruddy face, and a bad-tempered face. Apparently, this was not a man to be crossed. The whole class stood up, silently.  
  
"Today is the day when I announce your new Heads. I will remind you, Form 4E, that these two students and their Prefects, are, without exception, fully authorised to carry out appropriate punishments on any pupil. Anyone found misbehaving," he took this opportunity to glare around the class, "will answer to their Prefects and Heads." He beckoned to someone outside the door. "So this, Form 4E is Veronica Hardington, your new Head Girl." He began to clap loudly as a short stubby girl entered the room, a frown on her face. The class began to applaud drearily, then the clapping died away as the Head Master spoke again.  
  
"And this, Form 4E, is your new Head Boy. He is, overall, in charge of the pupils of this establishment, and answers only to myself and certain members of the senior teaching staff. Merridew, come in, please."  
  
My heart sank about six feet under the ground. Jack sauntered through the door, his copper hair glinting in the morning sunlight, and his blue eyes searching around piercingly. He hadn't changed a bit. He only looked well fed and possibly even more confident. I swallowed desperately, and looked down at the floor, hoping he wouldn't notice me.  
  
"You, girl! Stand up straight!" Mr Griffiths bellowed. I squared my shoulders and gazed straight ahead. "How dare you show me or my Senior pupils disrespect?"  
  
"Sorry," I muttered quietly. A few nervous giggles came from the back rows.  
  
"I beg your pardon? Sorry what? Here you are, Jack, an insolent pupil on your very first day. I shall leave you to deal with this - Veronica, assist me, please." He swept out with the grumpy girl.  
  
Jack surveyed the room coolly. His gaze rested on Ralph for a few moments.  
  
"Roger Everett will be one of your Prefects," he announced suddenly. "Roger, come up here." Roger walked up to the front of the room, and Jack handed him a Prefect's badge. "You will identify the others by these badges," he continued, and then was silent again.  
  
"Jack?" Miss Carmichael asked tentatively. "The punishment?"  
  
Jack seemed to mentally shake himself, and then he spoke again.  
  
"There will be no punishment. Not today, at least," he added. "But you will report to me after school. "  
  
The teacher nodded, somewhat relieved, and inclined her head respectfully to Jack as he left.  
  
"Sit down everyone. Charlotte, don't forget, after school. Now, turn to page twenty-two, please." 


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2:  
  
The clock ticked nearer and nearer to three o'clock. My hands shook as I tried to embroider the cushion cover than rested on my lap, and I pricked my finger badly. Sucking the blood off, I glanced up at the clock again. How could the minute hand have moved so far since I last looked?  
  
As the bell rang, signalling the end of the day, I put my work away in my drawer and started to walk to the classroom. Jack was there, waiting, sitting on the teacher's desk, with his feet propped up on a class desk.  
  
"What do you want?" I asked sullenly.  
  
"Sit down," he said curtly. I dropped my bag to the floor and sat behind the desk.  
  
"What do you want?" I asked again.  
  
"That's no way to address your head boy, Charlotte." He leant forwards and his shocking blue eyes burned into me intensely. His good looks had returned with proper feeding, and even though I hated him, I felt nervous as he gazed at me. "But I'm glad you asked." He leant back again, and I relaxed slightly.  
  
"You see - we haven't finished."  
  
"Haven't finished what?" I asked, confused.  
  
"The game. You see, I captured you - and then you ran away. Which doesn't constitute fair play, to me."  
  
"The game?" I whispered incredulously. "You call that a game?"  
  
"I call hunting a game, yes."  
  
"But you were hunting us!"  
  
"Yes. I was. And you ran away. So guess what?" he leaned closer.  
  
"What?" I whispered, scared suddenly.  
  
"The hunt's still on," he hissed. "So run."  
  
I stared at him.  
  
"Jack - we're not on the island any more!" I cried.  
  
"So - you won't run?" he asked, smiling slightly. It chilled me. "Tell me - if Ralph were in danger - would you run then?"  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"I'm talking about Ralph - you know, Ralph? The attractive, strong, athletic one? The one you'd do anything for if it meant you could feel his touch?" he brushed his hand up my forearm, and I shivered and sat as far back in my chair as I could. "The one you'd do anything for if it meant he was safe?"  
  
"What are you doing?" I whispered, terrified.  
  
"Playing a game, Charlie. Like the game we played before - except this time it's got a twist. You see, you're mine, right? I hunted you down, therefore that makes you mine, my property, mine. And because you're mine, I can do anything I want with you. Or to you, whichever you'd prefer, it really makes no difference to me," he contemplated, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Anyway, as I was saying, you're mine. Except because I'm feeling in a rather generous sort of mood, I'm going to give you away, as a present." He watched my reaction carefully.  
  
"You're crazy," I whispered.  
  
"I'm going," he continued, "to give you to Roger, because I know he's wanted to play for a very long time, and he did me a great service by disposing of that fat idiot you called a friend."  
  
Hot anger surged up inside me, but before I could speak, he carried on talking.  
  
"So, my pretty one, do you understand?"  
  
I couldn't even begin to comprehend what he was saying.  
  
"You are going to do everything Roger tells you to. Understand?"  
  
"You can't make me do anything!" I cried, before rising up out of my seat. A hand from behind pushed me down firmly. I looked over my shoulder. Roger, with silent, deadly footsteps had come through the door and stood behind me. I had no idea how long he'd been standing there. I stared up at him, trying to read something in his clear grey eyes, but I could see nothing. The dark hair framing his face, in contrast with his light eyes, gave his handsome face a sinister, brooding look.  
  
"You will if you want to survive - if you want your precious Ralph to be safe - if you want Simon to live." Jack spoke coldly now, quite differently from his earlier calm manner.  
  
"You couldn't hurt them," I said quietly. "They wouldn't let you."  
  
"Who's they? Teachers? I don't think so. Parents? Would they believe you? No. So listen up, Charlie. You'll do what Roger says from now on. And what I say. Whenever, wherever we like. I'm sure Roger will take care of you," Jack began to laugh. "Won't you?"  
  
Roger smirked.  
  
"Of course," he murmured.  
  
"And if I refuse?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.  
  
"Then you'll wish you were dead before I've finished with you," Roger hissed in my ear.  
  
"Ralph," Jack whispered, pressing his face close to mine, "won't have such a pretty face any more."  
  
"And we'll have some fun with Simon too," Roger added in a whisper.  
  
"What are you going to do?" I whispered fearfully, looking up at Roger.  
  
"Whatever I feel like," he spoke softly, whimsically.  
  
"I can't," I choked.  
  
"Fine," Jack stopped Roger from speaking by lifting his hand. "Wait and see what happens tomorrow." 


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3:  
  
I hurried into school - I was late. I had had an argument with Mother because I had got out of bed late. I made it just as the bell rang, and took my seat next to Hannah. To my horror, I saw that instead of the gentle Miss Carmichael, we had Mr Griffiths. The day was hell. He caned a small girl because she dared to get a sum wrong in arithmetic, and he struck Hannah's hands because she dropped her pencil in the silence. I stroked the welts softly under the table, while she attempted to stop crying.  
  
Our last lesson was English. Everyone hated the subject, because we all hated reading aloud. Whilst Hannah read aloud a passage from Macbeth, someone from behind us threw a paper aeroplane, possibly one of the stupidest things to do in the presence of the Headmaster.  
  
"Who threw that?" he bellowed, and Hannah stopped and squeaked in fright. Everyone looked down at the desks, praying desperately that whoever threw it would own up. Jack, who was sitting in on the lesson, leaned towards the Headmaster and muttered something in his ear.  
  
"You!" he shouted, striding towards me and yanking my arm. "It was you, wasn't it?" I turned white in shock and fear. I couldn't say anything to save myself, or do anything to prove my innocence. "Get up there!" He walked to the front and picked up his cane, swishing it a few times. I froze to the seat. "Get up, you miserable grub!"  
  
"It was me!" Ralph's voice came suddenly. He stood up, his jaw clenched with determination.  
  
"Ralph," I breathed, "Oh, no."  
  
He walked up to the front, his head held high.  
  
"Bend over, Walker," Mr Griffiths said thickly. He began to strike Ralph. Each stripe he left cut me too. I felt it harshly across my mind.  
  
Tears streamed down my face. Ralph had not let out a cry or a moan; he didn't want to appear weak in front of Jack. Hannah hid her face in my shoulder, and I turned my face to Jack. He watched me, smiling.  
  
'Please,' I whispered.  
  
He continued to smile.  
  
It was over. Mr Griffiths left Jack to take control of the class, and left, straightening his tie. Ralph fell to the floor in a heap. I sat in my seat, itching for the bell to ring so that I could go to him. When finally it did ring, the class left quickly, leaving Ralph, jack, Roger and myself alone.  
  
"I told you, Charlotte," Jack's voice cut clearly through Ralph's laboured breathing. I cradled his head in my hands, stroking and wiping the sweat from his face.  
  
"What - what's he talking about?" Ralph panted.  
  
I closed my eyes. Tears still trickled out from under my eyelids.  
  
"I - I've got to - " I broke off.  
  
"She's mine," Roger cut in harshly. "She's mine now."  
  
"What?" Ralph lifted his face.  
  
"Your little girlfriend has made an agreement with us," Jack clarified. "In return for your safety, and Simon's - we get her."  
  
"What the hell are you talking about, Jack?" spat Ralph.  
  
"Do you want me to spell it out for you, Ralph?" Jack sang. His face changed; it took on a hard, cold expression. "The hunt is still on."  
  
Ralph stared at Jack.  
  
'He's mad,' he thought. 'He's crazy, he's insane, he's - '  
  
"But," Jack continued, "this time the rules are different. The prize has changed. It's not you anymore. It's Charlotte."  
  
"No," Ralph whispered, understanding dawning on him.  
  
"And you know what the really ingenious part is?" Jack cried in glee. "By using her, we get you too!"  
  
"You're sick," Ralph spat through gritted teeth. He was close to tears.  
  
"No," Jack said quietly, "I'm in charge. And I'm damn good at it."  
  
Ralph made as if to get up, but his legs wouldn't hold him. "No, Ralph, you just sit there and watch."  
  
"Watch what?" Ralph managed to spit out through the agonised throbbing he felt through his whole body.  
  
Roger beckoned to me. I tightened my grip on Ralph's hand, staring at the boy who'd caused us so much pain. Who'd murdered one of our friends. Who'd tried to kill us. Who wanted me for his own.  
  
Suddenly Jack smashed the cane down onto the teacher's desk. It made a loud whistle as it cut through the air. We both jumped and turned to stare at Jack. His face was pale, and his eyes glittered dangerously. The power he held in his hand cracked the air again. I felt sure that soon it would be licking one of us again.  
  
I rose with trembling knees. I could hardly put one foot in front of the other. I approached Roger warily. I expected Jack's cane to come thwacking down on my shoulders at any moment. When I was close enough, Roger reached out and jerked me towards him, pulling me in close to his body. He was slightly taller than I was. His arm was holding me as tightly as he could, almost squeezing the breath out of me. He looked at me closely, then put one hand to my throat, resting it lightly, and pressed his lips to mine.  
  
It wasn't so bad. He tasted of lemon. I kept my mouth firmly shut. He didn't try and open his. At first I thought that that was it. It was a chaste - well, not so chaste considering it was Roger - firm kiss. He'd stop soon.  
  
But then he stepped it up. He increased the pressure on my throat gently, not hard, but firm enough to let me know he was in control. He pulled away and then ran his tongue over his lips.  
  
"How does she taste, Roger?" Jack smirked cruelly at Ralph, who looked on, desperate and hurt.  
  
"Tastes good," Roger whispered, in a hoarse voice. "Untouched."  
  
"He's got quite a thing for innocence," Jack confided in a stage whisper. Roger broke off to chuckle huskily. "Although, your Charlotte isn't the little angel she appears, is she, Ralph?" He crouched over the blonde boy on the floor.  
  
"Have you tasted her, Ralph?" he asked cruelly. "Have you made her touch you? I have."  
  
Jack grinned as Ralph growled angrily.  
  
Roger kissed me again, still holding me tightly. I couldn't stand it. I tried to back away, and he bit my lip savagely. I cried out in pain, but he still held me in his steely grip. He licked up the blood quickly.  
  
"Now, get out of here," Jack hissed. "Get out!"  
  
Ralph scrambled to his feet.  
  
"Ralph!" I cried when he cast me a grievous look. He limped out of the door.  
  
Roger wrapped his other arm around me, locking me in his embrace. I stared helplessly after Ralph, at the empty doorway.  
  
He was gone. 


End file.
